


heart and soul are going home

by time_breaker



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Cyberverse
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, F/M, Femmes with Spikes (Transformers), Friends With Benefits, Hook-Up, Strap-Ons, i guess lmao, or the transformers equivalent, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23267908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/time_breaker/pseuds/time_breaker
Summary: In which Arcee and Hot Rod fuck (in reference to the fic in which Soundwave and Hot Rod fucked)
Relationships: Arcee/Hot Rod
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	heart and soul are going home

**Author's Note:**

> i just really love hot rod

“Hey, Hot Rod!”

Hot Rod turned, and Arcee grinned, waving-- it was always worth it to see his expression change from surprise to the brightest smile that resided onboard the the Ark.

Although to be honest, Cheetor might be coming for his crown.

“Hi, Arcee!” Hot Rod said, running up to her. “I didn’t know you and Wheeljack were done in the lab. Did you get your sword?”

“Not yet,” Arcee said, and sighed.  _ “Apparently,  _ the schematics were too big.”

“That sucks,” Hot Rod declared. 

“It’s fine,” Arcee said, and grabbed his hand. “I was gonna come over and say hi anyway. I’d much rather spend time with you than Wheeljack.”

“Oh,” Hot Rod said, and his eyes widened. “Is this--”

Arcee laughed. “If you’re okay with it, yeah.”

“I mean, yeah! Sure!” Hot Rod flushed, and it was  _ adorable,  _ the way that his spoiler perked up to match the heat in his faceplates. “I guess we haven’t really-- not for a while, huh?”

“Were you doing anything important?” Arcee asked, steering him and his babbling aft toward the nearest doorway.

“No,” Hot Rod said. “Bee and Cheetor are talking to Optimus and it’s a  _ private conversation,  _ so I can’t hang out with them.”

“Bridge duty?” Arcee punched the code to open the door.

“I’m off for today!” Hot Rod beamed. 

_ “Nice.  _ I’m already done with my shift.”

“How the stars align, huh?” 

Arcee gave Hot Rod a little shove, crowding him gently against the wall. “Oh, for sure.”

“Mnh,” Hot Rod said, his optics glowing and his spoiler fluttering as Arcee pushed her knee between his legs, her hands grabbing securely at his hips. She bent around to kiss the side of his neck and bit it, as an afterthought. Hot Rod yelped. 

“Shh,” Arcee ordered, and looked over her shoulder. “Anyone who knows the code can come in, you gotta be quiet.”

**“I can help you with that,”** Teletraan-X’s voice offered, and the closet door locked with a secure-sounding  _ clunk.  _

“Heh, thanks, Teletraan-X,” Hot Rod said, and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “Mind not watching us now?”

**“I can also do that!”** Teletraan-X declared, and there was an audible  _ click  _ as the unseen cameras in the room disappeared. **“Is there anything else you require, Arcee and Hot Rod?”**

“No, thanks, we’re good,” Arcee called, and turned back to Hot Rod with a smile. “Okay! Now you can be as loud as you want.”

“I don’t think I--  _ mmf,”  _ said Hot Rod, as Arcee pulled his head down to meet her own and pressed their mouths together. He laughed into her mouth, his hands darting up to rest on her shoulders-- yeah, he was taller than her, but Arcee knew she’d show him that it didn’t matter. She’d still wreck him.

He was so  _ cute. _

“Roddy, what do you say to a little ride?” she said, pulling apart.

“As long as I don’t have to lie down. Cheetor was playing with my spoiler yesterday and it’s still kind of sensitive.” Hot Rod grimaced. “Can I ride your spike?”

“That’s a good thing to work up to,” Arcee agreed. “Open your panels, Roddy. Let me see what I have to work with.”

Hot Rod made a little noise-- aww, she’d embarrassed him again-- and slid open his interface covers. His spike pressurized into his hand, but what Arcee was interested in lay below. 

“You must have really missed this,” she said teasingly, kissing him again as she slid two fingers through his valve, massaging the node at the top. He was already lubricated-- she was sure she’d done that with the wall push. He loved the wall push.

“Only been about 65 million years,” Hot Rod replied, and gasped, doubling over onto her shoulder as she rubbed a little harder at his anterior node. He tucked his head into her and grabbed a little harder at her shoulders with his free hand, making short pants that were honestly just so fragging adorable Arcee was tempted to just keep going like this.

But her spike was aching for Hot Rod’s warmth. After all, like he’d said, it  _ had  _ been 65 million years.

“Wanna suck my spike for a bit?” she said.

Hot Rod laughed, his shoulders shuddering under Arcee’s ministrations. “Maybe if you-- hh-- s-stop with the valve stuff--”

Arcee withdrew her fingers and patted him on the cheek. “Sorry, Hot Rod. You know how I get.”

Primus, he was getting hot already. The first time they’d fragged, he’d accidentally spouted fire everywhere and burned the ceiling of whatever room the’d been in beyond repair. That was before Ratchet had put in the coding that made it easier for him to control his unique ability, of course. Nowadays, all he did was get a little smoky during overload.

Like most of the things about Hot Rod, Arcee found it  _ unbearably  _ endearing.

That was what made them work so well. They weren’t dating-- they both knew they  _ wouldn’t _ work as a committed couple. But for  _ other _ things. . .

Hot Rod was demonstrating one of the things currently.

“Keep in mind I haven’t done this in--”

“65 million years, yep, I know,” Arcee said, and patted Hot Rod’s head as he clambered down to his knees. She pressurized her spike and couldn’t help looking down to check if it had somehow changed over their long sleep; but no, there it was, gold and white with tasteful pink accents, just the way she remembered.

And there  _ he  _ was, just the way she remembered, wrapping one hand around the base of her spike and the other around his own, laying a kiss to the underside and looking up to meet her eyes.

She smiled down at him.

Hot Rod did his signature little moan when he’d taken her fully into his intake, glossa moving along the bottom and making tiny sucking motions; Arcee rocked her hips unconsciously, her entire physical senses narrowed down to the warm wetness around her spike, the satisfied noises that escaped from Hot Rod’s lips as he pulled off, kissed the tip, and went back in.

“Ah, frag, Hot Rod,” Arcee groaned, and grabbed the sides of his head almost without thinking-- she didn’t want to hurt him, she didn’t want to  _ hurt him.  _

Hot Rod knew what he was doing, though. He took her thrusts in stride, offlining his optics for a moment to focus, and-- yes, there it was, the increasingly frantic motions at his own spike, hand fisted around it. 

“Nope, nuh-uh, stop that,” Arcee declared, and pulled out of Hot Rod’s mouth. “You’re not overloading till I have you on my spike, Roddy.”

Hot Rod whined. “Arcee--”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Arcee said, and pretended like everything in her didn’t want to shove her spike back into the younger mech’s mouth, finish inside him, watch him rut himself to overload on the floor. They only had so much time, and she  _ really  _ wanted to spike him. “I’m working up to it.”

She knelt down herself, and turned to rest against the wall, sitting to face Hot Rod. She smiled at him as she reached down to stroke herself, up and down the length of her spike. 

“Arcee,” Hot Rod begged. 

Arcee laughed softly, looking him over-- he was sitting on his hands, his panels open and leaking, his spoiler twitching, and his face desperate. A pretty picture, for sure.

“All right,” she said, relenting. “Get on.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Hot Rod babbled, and Arcee shifted her legs to allow him to straddle her waist, valve hovering temptingly over the tip of her spike, lubricant dripping onto her panels. She grabbed his waist, fingers digging into the metal, and carefully guided him down. Primus knew he’d be trying to seat himself in one motion if she didn’t.

Hot Rod vented in frustration, his helm pressed against hers, his hands shaking and clenched against her sides. 

“Come on, Roddy,” Arcee said encouragingly. “Go slowly.”

“N-not really m-my M.O.,” Hot Rod grunted.

Arcee laughed, and Hot Rod giggled along with her as he managed to seat himself fully on her spike. Arcee’s laughter petered off into a strained hitching of breath and a single moan as Hot Rod rolled his hips just slightly.

“Mnh,” she said, and closed her eyes as she she tried to remain still long enough for Hot Rod to get comfortable. “Having fun?”

“I will if you let me move,” Hot Rod said cheekily, wiggling his hips more in her grasp.

Arcee let her head fall back against the wall, released Hot Rod, and nodded mutely. 

_ “Nice,”  _ Hot Rod said, and began to ride.

Arcee should have known she was done for as soon as she let Hot Rod have his way with the positioning. Gone was the desperation and the whining and the submission. He was  _ far  _ too good at this. When was the last time she’d had him ride her?

Well, the answer was definitely “more than 65 million years ago.”

“N-next time,” she managed, “y-you’re not r-riding.”

“Is-- ahh-- is it too much?” Hot Rod looked down at her and grinned brightly-- that  _ damn  _ smile, that happy and pure smile. Arcee could have overloaded just from being in its presence. “Am I just too good?”

“I’m going to overload and you won’t get yours,” Arcee threatened.

“Aw, ‘Cee, you wouldn’t do that to me,” Hot Rod panted, condensation beading on his faceplating. 

“We only have so much time,” Arcee said, and groaned, thrusting up into Hot Rod almost against her will. “Hhm. . .  _ Roddy,  _ get yourself off. . .”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hot Rod chirped, and started to strip his spike, hard and fast as he bounced. Arcee gasped, her optics flaring brighter-- the stimlus of soft wet heat against her spike hardened into a knot in her tanks, aching to be untied. She grabbed Roddy’s hips again, hard and firm, and pushed him down onto her-- once, twice, three times, until the ache inside her exploded and she was overloading with a growled cry up into her friend.

Hot Rod whimpered, bent forward, and tucked his head into the side of her neck, still grinding on her spike and furiously stroking his own-- he was close, and Arcee wrapped her arms around the back of him, kissed the side of his head, and held him through it. He came with a series of gasps that climaxed, as was his wont, with a shaking scream. Charge crackled along his frame, transfluid coated Arcee’s stomach, and his valve clenched around her spike.

And just as suddenly as it had came, the tenseness of Hot Rod’s frame left him in an instant, and he collapsed against Arcee.

“Good, you’re good,” Arcee cooed, petting the back of his head. “Come on, it’s all right.” She was shaky herself, but combined overloads always took it out of Roddy. “Shh,” she added as Hot Rod attempted to stir. “Just lie here for a minute, okay?”

They did.

It was very comfortable with the two of them, even if the heat of Hot Rod cuddling against her was a bit much-- he’d also filled their little room with the scent of smoke, but they’d both known  _ that  _ was a possibility. Arcee carefully stayed away from his spoiler as she stroked his back.

“Was it good?” she asked.

Hot Rod giggled. “Yeah, I think so. Not bad for a 65 million year break, huh?”

Arcee grinned. “Not bad at all.”

.


End file.
